


Aoede

by panicatthesipsco



Series: 3 Minutes Without Oxygen [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:52:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9394433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicatthesipsco/pseuds/panicatthesipsco
Summary: At this point, it's a miracle any work gets done at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so many health code violations. youre going to breAK something, boys!!!

On a spaceship roughly the size of a five room house, it was any wonder they managed to get work at all. After a few tentative months of ‘dating,’ they had all grown familiar with each other, and it was all too easy to get distracted by a squeeze of the ass as someone passed by, or being pulled into hugs that usually ended up with someone bumping their head on a wall or ceiling. Yet somehow they managed to keep things relatively professional during work hours, leaving _plenty_ of time for other things in the evenings.

It was one such night, after everyone had gone to bed, that Trott found himself shimmying out of his sleeping bag, before maneuvering his way out of the sleeping quarters and into the kitchen space. It wasn’t really much of a kitchen, however. They had a multitude of rations crates bolted down against the walls. Most of the crates were delegated to food; freeze-dried jerky and fruits, dehydrated meals that could be popped into the rehydrater, small packets of granola squares that tasted like garbage but gave them their daily vitamins. The rehydrater itself was bolted onto the wall as well, with a little tube dangling out of it for water refills, and a pop out tray that the meal packs were placed in before rehydrating. They also had other crates, dedicated to containers of vitamin supplements, small little tubes of coffee, and squeeze packets of water. It was for the latter that Trott had left the sleeping quarters.

He fished around in the proper crate, carefully pulling a water pouch undone from its velcro, before pulling off the cap and putting it in his mouth, squeezing out water to hopefully fix his dreadful bout of nighttime dry mouth.

The problem with no gravity, however, is that it is all too easy to be snuck up on, and so when Smith slipped his arms around Trott’s waist from behind, Trott nearly squeezed the pouch to the point of popping.

“Smith, you should be in bed,” Trott said sternly. However, with his relationship with the others, it was all too easy for his intimidating, commanding tone to boil down to a more annoying mother-hen nag.

“I had other things on my mind,” Smith said, his voice low and a little husky.

Trott scowled, despite the way his stomach was doing flips at the way Smith was murmuring in his ear. He sucked the last of his water from its pouch before warning, “You’re not gonna get to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Stop being my commander and start being my boyfriend,” Smith complained, though his tone was all too teasing. Trott would’ve resented the lack of respect his boyfriends now had for his authority, if it weren’t for the fact that Trott himself had come to care less and less about their ranks.

“As your _boyfriend_ ,” Trott enunciated carefully, slipping the water pouch into one of the crates, “you better make it worth my while if you’re going to be keeping me up late.”

Smith grinned, before shifting Trott around to be face to face with him. While getting intimate with no gravity was certainly a complex task, they had spent plenty of time getting familiar with the ship’s nooks and crannies, so it was easy for Smith to pull Trott with him, finding a gap between two crates to slip between. Smith shifted up a little, so that he was pinned mainly with his knees and lower thighs, before spreading his legs wide enough to keep himself wedged. He grabbed onto Trott by the thighs and shifted him down to straddle his waist, before looping his arms around Trott’s middle, effectively tethering them together.

Trott reached up, taking Smith’s face between his hands, pulling their faces closer together before pressing their foreheads against each other. Smith grinned at him, a bit lazily, before pressing kisses against Trott’s mouth, enjoying the way Trott immediately seemed to decompress, his eyes slipping shut and his fingers reaching up to stroke through Smith’s hair.

Of course, Smith hadn’t lied about being distracted when he had tried to fall asleep, so when Trott pressed his hips down against Smith’s, he found that he was already half-hard, Smith’s member already toughening up through his pants. Trott scoffed, but he felt Smith only grin as he pressed another kiss to him. “What can I say, Trott? You are mad sexy.”

“You know it,” Trott said easily, attempting to grind his hips further against him. Smith finally pressed an open-mouthed kiss to him, and Trott replied in kind, both their heads tilting as they tongued at each other. Smith slipped one hand from Trott’s waist down, pressing on his lower back to further push Trott down against him, while his other hand looped around Trott’s shoulders, keeping him as close to Smith as possible.

The chatter and banter was quickly tossed aside, the silence instead filled with their quiet pants and gasps. With only a bit of grinding, Smith’s member was hard and straining against Trott, and Trott found himself particularly impatient as he reached down to push down Smith’s pants. It was a fluid enough motion, one they had plenty of practice with, so within moments Smith’s dick was out and exposed.

Trott felt another pang through his stomach, and he decided that, while foreplay was nice and fun, he _really_ wanted Smith in him, a-s-a-p.

Trott pushed off away from Smith, just enough to free up some space to undress. Smith watched with a lazy smile, one hand wandering to stroke himself as he watched Trott shimmy out of his pants. It wasn’t graceful, or elegant. Nine times out of ten, when it came to Trott having to pull his pants off, he always felt more awkward than attractive. And yet Ross and Smith had both agreed that they thoroughly enjoyed watching the process.

In this particular instance, Trott settled on simply leaving his underwear and pants still looped around one ankle. It’d make it easier to get dressed afterwards and, frankly, he had gotten a bit lazy because of his boyfriends. He couldn’t bring himself to carry out the task when he could have Smith _now_.

Smith grabbed onto Trott’s ankle, tugging him back towards him. Smith reached out to slip a hand between Trott’s legs, but Trott swatted him away. “Just get on with it, Smith,” he complained, though he quickly felt embarrassed over how he sounded more desperate than nonchalant.

Smith grinned again, before using his palms to spread Trott’s legs wide, grabbing onto his thighs. Trott reached down and helped line himself up as Smith pulled him down onto him. As Smith pushed into him, Trott sighed, his eyes slipping shut once more, every tense muscle in his body slowly unraveling. When he bottomed out, Trott’s hips pressed tight around Smith’s, his ankles looped around Smith’s back, Trott reached up, grabbing onto Smith’s shoulders with both hands. Smith took that as his cue to begin, using his grip on Trott’s thighs to push up before pulling him back down again.

Sex in space, unfortunately, required a far different approach than they were used to. They had quickly figured out that the normal thrusting motion did nothing but cause too much unnecessary momentum, and they had instead developed a system of just pulling on Trott wherever they need him to go. It worked well enough, and Smith and Ross both had praised the way it made his breasts bounce. Of course, the three of them were up in space because they were science nerds, not poets, and his chest had been compared mainly to water balloons and lava lamps, and even defined quite eloquently by Smith as his ‘favorite display of Newtonian physics.’ (Trott didn’t quite see the appeal, but he didn’t care enough to complain, and they certainly seemed to enjoy it enough.)

Despite the differences in zero-gravity, it was still instinctively easy to pick up a solid pace. If there was one thing Trott had to admire about the human race, it was their ease at finding a way to fuck even in the most compromising circumstances. Of course, as Smith built up a pace pounding into him, Smith groaning above him with grunts of “Fuck, Trott” “Trott, _god damn_ ,” all Trott could think about was the way Smith felt inside him, and the solid, comforting feeling of his large palms gripping Trott’s thighs.

Trott dug his fingertips into Smith’s shoulders, panting, “Smith, angle up more.”

Smith only moaned in response, but he did his best, trying to pull Trott at just the right way. When Smith finally managed to find the sweet spot, Trott knew it would be easy work to come undone. He slipped one hand off of Smith’s shoulders, before sliding a hand between his legs. He rubbed at himself, tensing and untensing as he began to sift out a pace, causing Smith to groan and whine louder above him.

“ _Fuuuuck_ , Trott, you’re too good,” he whined, picking up the pace to be faster and harder. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” Trott breathed out. “Just a bit more, Smith.”

They moved against each other, Smith picking up a steady railing into him, Trott finding it all too easy to bring himself to the edge. With a hiss, Trott was digging his fingernails into Smith’s shoulder, his muscles clenching tight around Smith as rolling waves of release washed over him, Trott’s underbelly feeling like a knot being pulled undone. Smith was quick work after him, only a few more thrusts before he pulled Trott’s hips flush with his, clutching at Trott as Smith moaned, low and reedy. Despite how much time they had spent learning how to fuck in space, Smith still thrust his hips as he came into Trott, oblivious to the fact the motion did little in their circumstances. Trott, however, as he began to catch his breath, found it endearing, though that was buried under the sheer attractiveness of Smith’s orgasm. Smith had his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed, his dark eyelashes flush against his cheekbones.

As Smith finished up, breathing hard, his eyes fluttering open, Trott reached up and grabbed onto his jaw, shifting up as best as he could to kiss him.

“Fuck, Trott, I love you,” Smith managed to breath out.

“I love you too,” Trott murmured back, kissing him gently.


End file.
